The Gift of Life and Fire
by anchorise
Summary: Marco's wish of having a family of his own is finally granted. No mpreg. Magic AU. Drabbles, no continuity.
1. Birth

The first time Marco lays eyes on the bundle that is his son, he feels his entire body stop working. Before he entered the room, he prepared himself with deep breaths and quiet encouragements in his head. This is his _son_ ; the doctors said he was perfectly healthy even if his birth is a highly unusual one. But telling himself to calm down and doing just that are completely different things, he finds out as his eyes land on the bundle cradled in his beloved's arms.

What does the child look like? Does he have his golden hair, his azure eyes? Or his mate's dark hair, his steel eyes? How big is he? How big is he going to get? Did he inherit either Marco or his mate's abilities? Will his son be cautious and patient like him, or rambunctious and headstrong like his other father?

Marco is brought out of his haze by a crude snort coming from his mate. "I can hear you thinking from over here, you dumb chicken." Marco frowns at the annoying nickname. "C'mere. He's waking up."

Marco steadily walks up to his beloved, still nervous about what he will see. It's ridiculous, honestly. It's just a baby.

But it's _his_ baby. He has a right to be a little nervous, Marco tells himself. He slowly sits on the bed, careful not to jostle his mate and his newborn too much. He first focuses on the brunette's face, how utterly drained he looks. His usual dark skin seems slightly ashen, and his dark hair is messier than usual and wet with sweat. But his lips were quirked into the fondest smile Marco had ever seen on his beloved, a smile that trumped both the ones given to his mate's younger brothers and to he himself.

His mate slowly leans towards him and rests his head on Marco's shoulder. " _Look_."

For the second time since walking into the room, Marco can hardly breathe. In his beloved's strong arms lies his baby boy bundled in blankets, yawning widely as he tries to wake himself up. He has dark skin and too much black hair for a _newborn_. Marco can already tell he has his mate's nose and lips, and he finds himself wondering where he'll appear in this beautiful creation.

Then his son's eyes open.

Marco lets out a surprised laugh, one filled with joy and affection. _Blue_. His son's eyes are blue, just as his are. His mate's amused laughter fills the room as Marco smiles brightly down at his son. His son who has _his_ eyes.

"He's beautiful," Marco breathes, running a finger across his newborn's cheek. The infant turns his head into his father's touch and lets out a small whine; Marco can feel the strong magic coursing through his child's veins. He can't stop himself from grinning, not that he even tried. "Gods, Ace, he's wonderful."

His beloved lets out another laugh, nuzzling into his shoulder. "Worth all the shit we had to go through, huh?"

Yes, definitely, Marco wants to say, but he quickly remembers that Ace had the brunt of the pain during this entire debacle. ("Pregnancy"? It theoretically was but technically wasn't.) Ace had to eat for two, Ace had to deal with agonizing pain, Ace had to deal with not being able to move from his magic draining. All Marco did was worry and fret over both his mate and unborn child. So instead, Marco asks, "Was it for you?"

Ace's answer is immediate. " _Of course_. Not sure I would do it again, but hey, I got a pretty great consolation prize out of it, huh?" Ace says, proudly tilting his son towards Marco.

Marco places his lips against his mate's forehead in a long kiss. "I still feel absolutely awful about that. I didn't know he'd feed only off your magic."

Ace looks up at him and gives him a half-hearted glare. "Shut up about that already. You didn't do enough research, whatever. He's here now and he's healthy and that's all the matters, all right?"

Marco hums in response, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his beloved's lips. "Got it."

Ace gives him a smile before looking back down at their son. "He _is_ pretty wonderful, isn't he?"

"He's absolutely perfect," Marco agrees, letting his son's miniscule hand grasp his finger. The baby stares at it in fascination before trying to bring it toward his open mouth. "What do you think you're doing?" Marco chuckles and quickly maneuvers his finger to brush his son's tiny nose instead, cause it to wrinkle up in discomfort. Marco grins when his son huffs at him and squirms in Ace's hold. He looks back to Ace and asks, "Have you thought of a name?"

Ace nods and glances over at Marco almost shyly, his cheeks dusted with pink. "I like the one you suggested," he mumbles.

"I suggested a lot of names."

"Arlo," he clarifies.

Marco feels another grin split his face. "I knew you liked that one."

Ace softly slaps his arm. "Shut up," he says. "It's nice. Kinda feels like a combination of our names."

Marco hums again, caressing his son's chin with a single finger. Gods, he's so tiny and fragile and Marco's completely unsure how he's going to be raised in a rowdy home with _hundreds_ of aunts and uncles without a few bumps and bruises along the way. But he will be raised around wonderful people and have so many caring for and loving him.

"He's going to be great one day," Marco says brightly. "Our Arlo."

Ace lets out sweet giggle and nudges his face into Marco's neck. "I love you."

"And I you. So much, you can't even begin to understand how much," Marco says, tilting his mate's face towards his and placing a lasting kiss on his lips. " _Sleep_. You need to regain your energy."

Ace pulls back and narrows his gray eyes. "You just want the kid for yourself, huh?"

Marco grins teasingly. "Maybe a little."

Ace huffs, but slowly passes Arlo over to him. "Might as well have him meet the family while he's awake."

Marco nods, eager to hold his son. When Arlo is securely in his arms, Marco smiles down at the baby. "Hey Arlo," he coos. "I guess I'm your other dad."

The baby looks up at him with eyes as blue as a clear sky. His eyes, Marco reminds himself, though he doesn't remember his being so gorgeous. Arlo reaches a hand out, his palm open as he reaches for his father. Marco dips his head and let his son touch his cheek. The baby looks as if he's in awe, wondering why this giant is holding him.

Marco chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the infant's forehead before rising slowly from the bed. "Let's let your daddy rest for a bit, okay? He needs his beauty sleep."

"Asshole," is muttered from the direction of the bed.

Marco throws a grin over his shoulder to his mate who has already nested himself under the covers. He turns towards the door and slowly opens it, tightening his grip on Arlo.

It's completely silent outside until Marco closes the door softly behind him. He turns around and is greeted with the sight of his father, brothers, and sister, all looking expectantly at the bundle in his arms.

"Ace is fine and sleeping," Marco explains. "And this," Marco says as he tilts his son a little higher to show his face to their awaiting family, "is Arlo."

The reaction is nearly immediate. His siblings crowd around him, cooing and chirping at the newborn. Marco leans away for a second, fretting all the attention might be overwhelming for the newborn, but Arlo seems to bask in it, taking in all his uncles' and aunt's faces. His eyes look curious as he tries to move his head to see everyone.

"He's gorgeous, Marco," Izou says from beside him. "He looks so much like Ace."

"The brat's got your eyes, though," Fossa says. Marco notices that for once he's _not_ smoking a cigar. Good. Marco would've kicked him for doing something detrimental around his baby.

"Marco, look! He's staring at me," Thatch exclaims, and sure enough Arlo is gazing at his uncle with interest. "Been born for an hour and I'm already the favorite uncle."

Silence fills the room for about a second before a raucous argument between the uncles starts, all of them yelling about how it's way too early to figure out who's the best uncle and that Thatch wouldn't be the favorite even if Arlo _could_ choose. Marco holds Arlo closer to his chest, trying to protect his newborn from his insane uncles. Haruta gives him a pointed look, her arms crossed as her brothers argue around her.

'Do something,' she mouths.

Marco sighs and clutches Arlo's head, hoping to shield his ears. " _Oi_!" his voice booms, using the tone he uses when he commands his division. His brothers stop arguing immediately, moving to stand completely erect and look at their superior officer.

"You're being too loud," Marco continues, still using his strict voice. "Now calm down or so help me you will not see your nephew until he's eighteen, understand?" With anyone else, it would've been a ridiculous threat, but the way Marco can say things makes them almost always sound like a promise.

His younger brothers nod tersely, all looking at the ground in embarrassment. Haruta tries to hide her grin, and a booming laugh shakes the hall around them.

Marco looks up to the source of the laugh, the towering man standing behind the circle of his siblings. Marco moves towards him and his siblings move to let him through.

"Hey, Pops," Marco greets as he stops in front of the giant known as Whitebeard. "Meet your grandson."

Whitebeard bends down, a ginormous grin on his face. "So this is the brat that's given us all heart attacks since day one, ah?"

Arlo looks over at Whitebeard and starts stretching to get to his crescent shaped mustache, clearly mesmerized by it. The man lets out another laugh, reaching a finger out to gently rub the infant's head.

"Welcome to the family, Arlo."

* * *

Marco smiles down at the cradle holding his slumbering son; the little boy had tried so hard to stay awake to meet his entire family but only made about a fourth in before his small body needed to rest. Marco had to practically kick the remaining family members off of the newborn and let him sleep. His brothers and sisters were distraught but understanding and let their nephew retreat to his bedroom after a few more coos and caresses.

The sheets shuffle behind Marco, alerting him to his mate's sudden state of cognizance. Soon, muscular tan arms wrap around his waist and a firm chest pushes against his back.

"Back already?" Ace whispers into his ear with a teasing tone.

"I think the family is plotting my demise as we speak," Marco responds, smiling when he feels his mate laugh into his shoulder.

"What can I say? He's got half of me, of course they love him," says Ace as nuzzles Marco's back.

The phoenix hums. "I wish he had your freckles, though. He'd be so damn adorable—I don't think we'd ever get him back."

The arms around him tighten. "I went through hell to get him here, don't think I'd give him up so easy."

A wave of guilt rolls over Marco as he sags in Ace's arms. How could he not feel guilty for the pain his beloved went through to bring their child into the world? It's his fault entirely what happened to Ace. His incomplete research had led to his mate suffering more than he ever did from any injury or ailment, more than the pain of a normal pregnancy. Marco watched the fire of his life nearly flicker out as their child fed off of his essence and his alone, rather than the planned dual share. Marco honestly has no idea how his calculation fucked up so badly, and he plans to investigate as soon as he can find the power to leave his newborn and mate alone.

"You're doing it again. Stop."

Marco sighs, covering the hands clasped around his waist with one of his own. "I'm—"

" _Stop_. I'm fine. Arlo's fine. You're fine. Everyone's fine. Calm down." A soft kiss is pressed to the back of his neck. "We're _parents_ , Marco. Sure, there were a few bumps on the way here, but it _worked_. Arlo is alive and breathing right in front of you. I'm alive and breathing right behind you. We're all okay."

Marco looks over his shoulder, meeting Ace's tired, dark eyes. Marco tries to wrap his head around how he found such a supportive and understanding companion after centuries of life without one. He remembers the exact day Ace showed up on their island, spitting fire (literally) and demanding to fight Whitebeard. Marco had been among the onlookers, watching in amusement as Pops threw the mage to the other side of the island. The next day Ace showed up again, covered in dirt and foliage, screaming his challenge only to have the same thing happen to him. The fire brat tried to fight Whitebeard a total of one hundred times before Marco and Thatch finally calmed him down. It was obvious to see that the kid was at wits end by the last couple of assassination attempts, and slowly Marco comforted Ace after his last try at killing Whitebeard. Marco was fond of Ace, as was much of the Whitebeard Guild. Anyone who had the tenacity and determination to keep fighting a losing battle was Whitebeard material. Pops wanted Ace as his son, and once Marco soothed Ace's roaring flames, it was clear Whitebeard was going to get what he wanted. After he saw a grinning Ace with Whitebeard's mark on his back, it didn't take very long for Marco to realize how much he fell for the mage.

Ace is a blessing in his long life, and now they have something amazing to look to the future for.

"We're all okay," Marco repeats softly, relaxing into his mate's hold, and that was all he could ever hope for.


	2. Crying

**Short and sweet? (Sorry.)**

* * *

Marco jolts awake at the first shriek that pierces the dead of night, causing him to nearly tumble off the side of the bed. Thankfully, he catches himself on the bedside table before he slams to the floor and manages to push himself up without hurting anything. Marco lets out a groan as Arlo continues crying. The books and nurses both warned him plenty about this stage of his son's development, but he had foolishly believed his son would be the one baby that slept like a perfect angel.

So, of course, Marco's kid ends up having a set of iron lungs.

" _Marco_." Ace's pitiful whine is muffled under his pillow. "It's your turn."

Marco turns to glare at his mate (it's been "his turn" for the past week!) and Ace catches stealing his pillow. Ace put it over the other, hoping the double protection will block out Arlo's sobs. Marco lets out an exasperated sigh and walks over to the cradle a foot away from their bed. Inside lays Arlo, his blanket thrown from his tiny body. His tiny hands are clenched in fists raised above his head. Marco's heart twinges at the sight—that universal heartbreak all fathers have when they see their child crying. He is quick to take the crying baby in his arms, cooing and bouncing him gently. Marco walks them over to the balcony overlooking Whitebeard's bay, the only entrance to the island not protected by harsh waves and jagged rocks. The calm sea breeze ruffles his hair and brings the poignant scent of salt with it.

"Hey, sunshine," Marco says softly, rubbing Arlo's small back. His back is nearly the same size as Marco's palm—he will probably never get over how _small_ his son is. "What's wrong, huh? Did you have a bad dream?"

Arlo lets out a choked sob in response, his tiny fist clenched tightly.

Marco shushes him, placing a kiss on his dark locks. "You're safe now. Nothing can hurt you when I'm around."

The words seem to work as Arlo's crying becomes quieter. They calm to a soft whimper; the poor baby isn't trying to cough up his lungs anymore.

"That's my boy." Marco smiles, giving his son a fond look. "See? Everything's all right."

The phoenix looks out onto the bay, the moon reflecting off the surface of the rippling waves. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes; nothing calms him more than the sea. His love for the ocean was only discovered in this century when he met Whitebeard; Gods, he regrets never leaving his nest up in the mountains. The sky was no doubt his home, but the sea was his escape.

"One day, when you're older," Marco whispers to his sniffling son, "I'll show you the entire ocean. We'll visit other islands and countries and have adventures. I'll teach you everything I know so you'll be wiser than me and I'll teach you how to defend yourself so you'll be stronger than me. We'll set sail when you're seventeen; I figure that's a good age. It's when your dad first went out to sea, and your Uncle Straw Hat. (You'll meet him someday, sunshine, I promise.) Then maybe you'll love the ocean as much as I do."

Arlo nuzzles in Marco's shoulder, rubbing his snot all over.

Marco just chuckles, rubbing the back of Arlo's head. "The sea has brought me wonderful things, you know. She brought me a father, and a huge, caring family. She brought me lifelong friends that I will cherish for as long as I live. She brought me a loving mate that I never thought I would fine." Marco touches his forehead to Arlo. "And she brought me the one gift I can never repay. She brought me _you_ , little one, and for that, I am eternally grateful."

Marco grins at the soft coo Arlo lets out; finally he is asleep again. Marco turns back into the bedroom and places the baby gently back into his cradle, giving him one last stroke on his head before returning to his own bed.

Marco can hear Ace's snoring from under the two pillows and decides to lessen his mate's chance of suffocating in his sleep. He takes his pillow back and settles down under the sheets, giving Arlo's cradle one last look before closing his eyes.


End file.
